Until we meet again
by Tamano Setsuna
Summary: The nations are not immortal. But they reincarnate again and again, so that they can accomodate to the changing world. Can they all meet in the next reincarnation?
1. Chapter 1

Francine was almost dragging Alice through the streets of London in her excitement. It had been almost 4 months since she had seen her girlfriend. It was all because of her work. The president had kept her so busy, that she couldn't visit, so now she wanted to make up for it.

"Slow down Fran-cine," Alice called out, almost calling the blue eyed woman France, but fortunately catching herself. Even though the existence of nations was no secret, she didn't want to deal with people right now.

"Come on, Alice, I am just so excited," Francine grinned.

Alice shook her head, "Can't you act your age? You are already in your forties, so don't ac like schoolgirl…"

"Alice!" Francine gasped theatrically, "Don't act so prudish just because right now you are part of nobility…"

Alice resisted rolling her eyes. Her lover was such drama queen. She was no prudish, just well mannered lady.

Francine smiled and leaned closer to Alice to kiss her on lips, but Alice blushed in embarrassment and turned her head, so Francine kissed her cheek.

"N-Not in public," she whispered, quickly looking around.

"But Alice," Francine pouted, "Can't you be a little bit more spontaneous?"

Alice turned around, took Francine's hand and started pulling her away muttering how she is spontaneous enough. She could be spontaneous if she wanted. But also knew what was appropriate and what was not.

Then she suddenly stopped and frowned. Something was off. She couldn't place it, but she felt it.

"What's wrong?" Francine asked softly, seeing Alice's concentrated face.

Then Alice bolted down the street, with Francine hot on her heels. There was a big fight somewhere nearby. She could feel some of her people dying. She had to get there and help, it was her duty as nation of England.

Alice ran straight to the centre of conflict. She didn't even care for the shooting that was going around her. She saw a hurt man and quickly kneeled beside him.

"Are you okay, sir? What happened?" she asked as she assessed his injuries. Which was only small head wound, on which Alice put her handkerchief, hoping it would stop the bleeding until some ambulances come.

"They were holding protest, but some vandals didn't like it and… I am not really sure how it had come to this. Suddenly there were bullets flying everywhere…" said the injured man.

Alice nodded, "Thank you… Everthing is gonna be fine."

Francine dropped on the ground beside Alice. "Don't run off like that!" she hissed.

"You said I should be more spontaneous, so I was!" Alice snapped.

"Not like this," Francine groaned.

Womans shriek cut through air. Alice's head snapped up and saw an injured woman running towards them. She quickly stood up, to help the woman. She didn't even think about what she was doing.

"ALICE!" Francine yelled, jumped and pushed Alice to the ground. Before the English nation could protest, loud bang sounded and Francine screamed in pain as they both fell down.

"F-Francine?" Alice touched Francine's shoulder. The French nation hissed. Alice carefully turned her over and gasped. On Francine's chest was big bloody stain. "Francine!" Alice started panicking. She had to treat Francine's wound quickly or she will die.

Francine smiled softly, "Je t'aime…" She pulled Alice for a kiss. And after that she drew her last breath.

"FRANCINE!" shouted Alice, but it fell on deaf ears.

The Female England started to sob. Francine France Bonnefoy died on 2nd August 1989.

Days after funeral turned into weeks. Alice didn't even notice and it was already 3 weeks after Francine's death. She felt so numb. It was after all her fault that her lover was dead. If she just didn't run into that conflict without thinking. If she was aware of her surroundings. If…

It will take years until she sees those azure eyes again. And even then it won't be the same. They would be decades apart. Alice didn't want that. She didn't want to wait. Maybe more than one lifetime to be able together without the society's disapproval. She wouldn't be able to take it.

"Ya stupid eejit, how long do you think we will wait?!" eight years old Alistair Kirkland banged on the front door of Alice's house.

One of the maids opened up and politely greeted him. It seemed that England was not yet awake. She went to Alice's room. And her shriek drew every single person in the house towards the room.

The scene was almost serene, if it wasn't for the bloody stain in the middle of the bed. Alice's glassed were nicely folded on the nightstand. Her long blond hair flowed around the bed. And her wrists were slit.

Alice England Kirkland died on 28th August 1989.


	2. Chapter 2

Baylee Hollins was trying to get comfortable on her bed. But that was not an easy feat, because of her large eight months pregnant belly. And she couldn't even call her partner to help her get comfortable. Because there was no partner.

Truth to be told Baylee six months ago quit her job as a nurse and moved to the country, where nobody knew her, and nobody bothered her. She didn't want to deal with people. Didn't want them to know of her shame being pregnant. Because she was not married. She didn't even have boyfriend at the time of conception. In fact she was raped. And didn't realize she was pregnant until it was too late to get abortion. So she ran away from everything she knew to get birth in peace and then she will decide what to do.

At first she was sure to give the baby up for adoption, but sometimes she rubbed her belly and imagined what it would be to raise it. Would she make a good mother? Or bad? How will the baby look like? Is it a girl or a boy? She was so confused. But then again, she still had time to think about it.

Baylee finally found a position that was more or less comfortable. God her back hurt today like hell. But she still managed to fall into restless sleep. Only to be woken up by sharp pain. She cried out and flinched. Her breath came in short hisses. After that she became aware that something was weird.

She quickly reached for the lamp and turned it on. She immediately knew what was happening. The sheets around her were all wet. Her watter broke.

"N-No," she whispered horrified, "It's too soon."

But she couldn't do anything about it. She had gone into labor. And she couldn't do anything to stop it. She had to go through it alone. Because she now lived in small cottage with the nearest village about 5 kilometers away.

Baylee hissed as new pain shot through her. It will be fine. She was preparing for it for months. She was a nurse for gods sake, she can manage a childbirth.

They were the hardest and longest hours in her life, but she managed to do it. Her son was born on 23 April 1990 in early morning hours. He was small, smaller than most babies, but that was understandable, considering that he was born premature.

But Baylee didn't even think about what it will mean for her son. All she could think about was his eyes. They were green. Just like HIS. The man, who raped her…

"You can do it Adele," Gervais Molin grinned. He was just so happy. His wife was giving birth to their second child. Their second son. And he just couldn't be happier. Adele was looking exhausted, but she still managed to smile softly.

Soon after that babies cry sounded through the hospital boy. The nurse took the baby boy, to give it a check up and clean it from blood, but soon she handed the boy to his proud mother.

"Congratulation Madame Molin, it's a healthy baby boy," the nurse smiled.

Adele Molin embraced her son. "He is beautifull," she whispered happily.

Gervais smiled, "He truly is. And did you decide on his name yet."

Adele thought about it for a moment. Then she nodded.

"Francis," she said with a smile.

"Francis it is then," Gervais grinned.

Francis Molin, second son of Molin family was born on 14th July 1990.

She couldn't take it anymore. She tried her hardest, but it just wasn't working out. For three months she tried to become a real mother to her baby, but overtime, she saw those green eyes, she was reminded of her shame. Of him. That man, who stole her peace and self control. Baylee could feel herself being crumbled down. She didn't want to raise child which reminded her of her rape. But no matter what, she was not a murderer.

Baylee had her son, whom she couldn't bother name yet, bundled in her arms. She walked swiftly, concealed in the warm august night from curious eyes by her black cloak. She couldn't risk being found out. After all, she didn't want to go to jail.

She was at a monastery, that she knew was running orphanage too. Surely they wouldn't mind one more child. She set her son on the doorstep, banged loudly on the gate and bolted into hiding space. It took some time, but finally the gate opened, revealing sleepy looking monk. He looked at the baby confused, but then he picked the baby up and went back inside.

Baylee was watching all this with unemotional face. After the gate closed, she turned around and walked away without looking back. Maybe now she could be free.

Father Patrick didn't like to be woken up. But considering the circumstances, there was no other way. After all, it wasn't every day, that one of the younger monks informed him, that they found baby on their doorstep. He sighed. This was gonna be really long night.

"So there was no note, Brother Dominic?" he asked trying to confirm the facts.

Brother Dominic shook his head, "No Father Patrick. No note. No name, no birth certificate, nothing."

Father sighed again. He could feel the headache building up.

"Guess I should start working on documents," he said, getting documents to register new orphan to their orphanage, "First… name."

"How about Arthur," Brother Dominic blurted and blushed.

Father Patrick raised an eyebrow, but wrote Arthur anyway.

"And what about surname?" Father Patrick asked.

Brother Dominic chuckled, "Wouldn't it be funny, if it would be King? Like King Arthur…"

"If that's what you want," Father Patrick mumbled and wrote it down, "Birthday… hmm… today is… 10th August 1990."

"Father Patrick, why are you writing today's date?" Brother Dominic asked confused, "The baby is at least month old…"

Father Patrick looked at the young man. "We don't know anything about him. Your guess is as good as mine," he said, "So we might as well give him some birthday that would mean something. The day he was found."

Brother Dominic nodded. It made sense. Since they didn't know anything about Arthur, they could have put any date they wanted and it wouldn't be right. But Arthur King was born today… when he received his name.

"Now, please go and wake up Brother Matthew," said Father Patrick, "He will know, what to do with the baby."

Brother Dominic bowed, carefully took Arthur into his arms, and walked towards Brother Matthew's room with their new addition.


	3. Chapter 3

Wales sat in one of the salons of the Buckingham Palace. Opposite of him sat four year old France. Wales smiled. Francis looked cute as a child. He couldn't wait to see England, but he or she had not awoken as a nation yet. It usually happened between five to seven years. There were some early examples like France here, and of course late bloomers like Greece who had awoke at the age of nine, with Italy brothers close behind at eight years.

"So, how are you?" Francis asked in heavy French accent. It was only few weeks since her remembered his past and the English words still didn't roll from his tongue as smoothly as before. It was a bit annoying that it happened every reincarnation, but he didn't complain. After all French was his mother tongue.

"Everything is fine," Wales grinned, "As you can see, after two times as a girl, I am finally a man. Next year I will go to the World Academy. Northern Ireland and Scotland are already there. Scotland complains a bit, but you know him. He tends to exaggerate and grumble about everything…"

World Academy was an international academy founded as to make the diplomatic ties between countries unifying Europe better. At first there were only members of the newly united Europe attending, but as the time went on, more and more countries were interested in this project and nowadays the whole world could send children to study there.

Of course not everyone could get in. Every year were held exams and only one girl and one boy from every nation passed. The nations weren't accounted in this, as it was mandatory for them to attend. This way they learned about everything that changed in the world.

The studies started when the children were 10 and they were there for 8 years, studying various subjects, which included diplomacy, multiple languages and in the higher years gun shooting or piloting.

To graduate from the World Academy meant that they had open paths in diplomacy, politics or high-ranking military. The nations put a lot of care into the school, making it the most prestigious school in the world. Once the kids got in, all their need were paid by the government.

Francis was listening and nodding. He was glad that the Kirklands were fine and he was amused at Scotland's antics, but there was still someone that Wales didn't mention.

"And what about… Alice?" he asked anxiously.

Wales blinked, "Nobody told you?"

"Told me what?" Francis frowned.

Wales looked guiltily away. He didn't want to be the one, that tells Francis that he couldn't see England yet. But it seemed, that he had to do it.

"Alice killed herself shortly after your death," Wales said carefully.

"WHAT?!" Francis yelled. Never before he heard something about nation committing suicide. Usually they died of sickness, accident or of old age. But nobody killed themselves. It seemed weird and useless, as people killed themselves because they couldn't take their lives anymore. But nation reincarnated and remembered everything. So the problem would rise anew.

"Yeah. So England is reincarnating right now," Wales said, and once seeing the look on Francis' face quickly added, "But as soon as we find her, we will let you know, okay?"

Francis pouted cutely, but nodded anyway.

Father Patrick was working on some documents when someone knocked on his door.

"Come in," he called without looking up.

Inside came Brother Dominic.

"Father Patrick, I brought the list of children, that are going to start attending school this year," Brother Dominic said.

Father Patrick nodded and looked at it. It was only short, because they were taking care of children of various ages.

"Aah, that reminds me…" he started, "How is Arthur? He is going to be in second year, right?"

Brother Dominic nodded, "Yes. You know, last year I was worried about sending him to school a year early, but he seems to be standing his ground. He is really smart and good behaved. All I hear about him are compliments."

"That's good," Father Patrick said, "I am sure he has bright future in front of him."

Brother Dominic smiled and with that he left Father Patrick's office.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur sighed as he heard the ring that was informing everyone, that it was lunch break. He was really glad, because today he overslept and had to skip breakfast, to come to school on time. And now he was regretting it, as he still was late to his first period. But that was thanks to him being stuffed inside his own locker. Arthur cursed his small build. And Antony, who had the guts to do it and leave him there when it rang.

The blonde rushed through the corridors, trying not to be noticed. He was doing quite good job, until he entered the cafeteria.

"Hey, Your Majesty, here to eat with the commoners?" called Antony and his friends laughed cruelly.

Arthur gulped and walked by them without answering. But Antony didn't let it slide just like that. He grabbed Arthur's arm.

"What is it, King?" he sneered, "Too noble for us? Or are we too old for you?"

"I-I am nine, like y-you," stuttered Arthur.

"You are not. You still have four months to go," growled Antony, "How the hell did you get into our year is beyond me. After all, you are such tiny whelp…"

"Don't call me that!" Arthur snapped.

"Or what, loser?" Antony smirked, but then Arthur's fist made contact with his nose and he fell to the floor.

Children around them screamed as Arthur and Antony started to fight.

"You did what?!" Father Patrick yelled.

He was glaring at Arthur, who today returned later than others. Other pupils told the monks, that Arthur was in detention, so as soon as the blond boy returned, Father Patrick called him to his office. He had questioned the boy, why he was in detention and was told about how he fought with his classmate. The other boy had to go to the nurse, because his nose was bleeding.

"I-I," Arthur tried to explain himself, but the look on Father Patrick's face made him shiver.

"No," Father Patrick hissed, "There is no excuse for that kind of behavior!"

Arthur flinched and nodded.

"Now to kneel in the corner and recite The Apostle's Creed… twenty times," hissed Father Patrick.

Arthur paled, but quickly went to do that.

Arthur took a breath and started, "I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and Earth…"

About 30 minutes later Arthur finished with his punishment. His feet hurt and his voice was hoarse.

"Arthur," Father Patrick started softly, "Do you know, why I gave you that punishment?"

Arthur stayed silent.

"Because we all have great expectations for you," Father Patrick sighed, "You cannot let yourself be pulled into some gang and start fights with yours classmates."

"But…" Arthur tried to defend himself, but Father Patrick raised his hand.

"I wasn't finished. You are really bright… In fact, you are the smartest kid this orphanage ever had. You have so much potential. Me and other Brothers know, that you will get far in your life. So act like it! Study hard and behave. Am I understood?" Father Patrick asked.

Arthur could only nod.

After that he was finally let go. He walked to his bedroom, which he shared with five other boys. The bedroom was empty. They were all probably doing their chores. Which he should start on too.

Arthur pulled basked full of clothes closer. As a eight year old, he was tasked by mending of torn clothes. Younger children did only some sweeping and laying tables. As they got older, they started at mending, and gardening, laundry, and only teenagers could cook, because there was the danger of burning themselves.

The blond boy pulled out first shirt, which fortunately only needed new button. If they all were going this easy, maybe he will have time for his own clothes. Or more specifically for the old tunic that Brother Mathew gave him. He wanted to adjust it to himself, so that he could wear it as a cloak. It would be useful when he goes to the forest for a walk to clear his mind.

Arthur liked going to the near forest. It always calmed him down. Some animals even got so accustomed to him being there, that they came over to him.

Arthur sighed as he looked at the pile that still needed the mending. With that and all the homework he got, it was unlikely that he would go to the forest. Not to say, that Father Patrick and other orphanage Brothers will keep closer eye on him for a while. Just his luck.

"For the fifth time this month, no England still hadn't let us know about his whereabouts," Wales dramatically sighed into his phone.

France called him. Again. Fifth time just this month. He was getting anxious that England was still missing. And truth to be told, Wales was starting to get anxious too. England probably just passed 8 now, which was high time for him to awaken. But they didn't hear a word from him. Which was getting weird. It never took so much time for the English nation to awaken.

"Maybe you should call Scotland, he is probably better informed than me, he is older after all," Wales hoped that France will let him be and call the Scotsman, so that he could go back to his homework. But he didn't have such time, as the Frenchman told him, that he already called him.

"France… We told you, that we will call you as soon as we know about England," Wales groaned, "So if we didn't, we just don't know!"

Finally France gave up, and hung up, but not before he promised to call again. Wales sighed again.

"Maybe…" Wales leant back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, "Maybe we should start to look for England ourselves. If nothing else, then for the sake of our sanity. Because if we don't tell France that England is back soon, we are gonna lose it…"


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur sighed and leaned back onto tree trunk. He finally got away from the orphanage after a long day of weeding and watering plants in their garden. Even though it was summer, the monks didn't cut them any slack. If anything, they gave them even more chores to do, as not to become lazy, as they were saying. So it was already late in the afternoon, when they were finally let go, to have a bit of free time to themselves.

Arthur immediately headed into the near forest, as usually when he had the time. He put on his brown cloak, and walked among the trees. Once he reached his favorite spot, he sat down and closed his eyes. Only here he could feel truly at peace. Something in this forest made him feel calm and happy.

Suddenly Arthur's eyes snapped open, as he heard something. But when he looked around, he didn't see anything. He frowned. He could have sworn, that he heard tiny voice talking. But then again, he could have gone mad. It wouldn't be surprising, considering, that since yesterday he read Legends of King Arthur like crazy. Arthur pulled out the book and remembered how he got it.

_Arthur was kneeling beside some tomato plants. He was carefully pulling out weeds, so that they wouldn't obscure the edible plant. "Hopefully you will ripe soon, so that I can have you for breakfast," Arthur smirked. Somehow the fact, that they grew their food themselves, made it taste even better. _

_"__Psst," came a whisper from behind him. Arthur turned around in confusion and looked for the source of the noise. At first he didn't see anybody, but then he noticed grinning Brother Dominic behind a pillar, waving excitedly at him. _

_Arthur stood up and walked to Brother Dominic. _

_"__How can I help you, Brother Dominic?" Arthur asked politely. _

_Dominic's grin widened, "Today is your birthday. I know I shouldn't say this, but you are my favorite… So I wanted to give you something." _

_Then Brother Dominic pulled a book from his tunic. _

_"__I know, it's not much, but it was always my favorite. This was actually the story that inspired me, to become monk… well, once I found out, that there are no more wizards," Dominic said with a chuckle, "And it is the story, that caries your name…" _

_Arthur looked like he was going to cry, when he took the book into his trembling hands. This was the first present he got in his short life. He looked at the titles. The Legend of King Arthur. Figures. Arthur laughed out, but it came out as a sob. His eyes felt watery too. _

_"__T-thank you," he choked out._

_"__Aww, don't cry, it's your birthday, you shouldn't cry," Brother Dominic hugged him. _

_Arthur just nodded and hugged the monk back. _

Arthur opened the book and absorbed himself into the story. Now it could fall bombs around him and he probably wouldn't notice it. Just as he didn't notice the flickering light, which quickly disappeared. Because right now, he was walking beside King Arthur and his trusted Merlin.

Francis frowned. He was trying to call Scotland. Again. But nobody was picking up. He called three times already, but nothing. As if the redhead was wasn't picking on purpose. France's eyes widened. Was Scotland ignoring him? But why would he do that? Because he called every day the past week, as small voice in his head reminded him. The Kirkland brothers probably just got fed up, and decided to give him silent treatment.

"Well, that's fine," Francis muttered, "I can be patient…"

The door to his room creaked.

"Chér?" came the voice of his mom, "Are you okay?"

"Ah, oui, just…" Francis smiled.

His mom looked at the cell phone in his hands, "You called your friends again?"

Francis sighed. Even his mom noticed that he called Scotland and Wales too much.

"It's okay sweetheart… just be a little bit more patient," Adele smiled, "I don't understand all this that much, but if you think about it too much, you will only get depressed. Just… try to live your life here, and where your soulmate comes back, you will have many stories to tell him."

Francis smiled. That really cheered him up. His mom always knew what to say, to make everyone feel better.

"Mamaaan," Francis' older brother Jacques whined from somewhere in the apartment, "Where are my sneakers? I have to go to training…"

Adele rolled her eyes.

"How can he not see them? They are right in the middle of his bed, just like his football uniform," she muttered, as she walked out of the room, "Honey, right on top of your uniform."

"And where is my uniform?" Jacques asked.

Francis chuckled. His brother might be a rising football star, but when it came to cleanliness, he was far behind the stone age.


End file.
